Restoring Hope
by Hilary Weston
Summary: Sequel to 'Regaining Life'. Part 5. NOW COMPLETE
1. Part 1 Return

I'm back, and it's time to resolve the cliffhanger from 'Regaining Life'.

This is the last of my 'Re-' trilogy and will probably be shorter than 'Regaining', but don't quote me on that. Up to now I have remained completely within B5 continuity, but this piece will contradict the short story 'Space, Time and the Incurable Romantic'. The problem is that I had thought out my idea before that story was published, but as there don't seem to be too many fans that were completely happy with how that turned out then I think I am safe. As usual, all comments are welcome and thanks to Robin Floyd (The Doctor!) for helping me get this first part ready. Thanks also to Sleepy Shadow for helping me find the Dickens quote.

I had so many suggestions for re- titles that I am going to name the different parts. Keep those ideas coming. Hi to Red Wulf, Natters, MOM, Eris, Sabrina and all my reviewers.

Standard disclaimers; I don't own B5, or Marcus, or Susan. They belong to WB and JMS (All Hail to the Great Maker). Marie is mine, but other people can use her if they let me know first. This is set after SIL so knowledge of all B5 is preferred. If you don't want to be completely confused, then please read 'Rediscovering Marcus' and 'Regaining Life' first.

  
  
**Part 1 - Return**

_Susan._  
For an atheist, Marcus was surprised that he was still thinking.  
He knew he was dead. He had felt his life force drain away, channelled into Susan that she might be healed. His body had shut down utterly, making it impossible to move, then speak, then see and finally breathe.  
He had fully expected that to be it. But here he was; wherever here was.  
Despite his immense vocabulary, Marcus found that he could not describe the nowhere place that he was. There were no dimensions, no colour, no noise, no feelings. Yet here he was.  
There was also no time. He did not know if he had been here a day or a hundred years.  
Well, if this was it, then at least he had been proved right in there being no heaven. It was a pity that he would never know if his sacrifice had worked. He had not been able to tell if Susan was getting stronger before he had ultimately closed his eyes. Maybe she had also died along with him and was in her own nowhere place.  
_Susan._  
No! She must have lived. He had believed so hard that the machine would work and the Minbari had taught him that 'faith manages'.  
She had to have lived.  
_Susan._

Something was happening. He could feel. For the first time since he had died, Marcus thought of himself as having a body; arms, legs. Was that significant?  
He could hear something.  
Imperceptibly, the hum of a voice was discernable. He strained to listen, almost making out words; elusive, but so familiar. Concentrating, they became clearer.  
_~There is a sharp misgiving in my conscience that if I were to live, I should disappoint your good opinion and my own--and that I ought to die.~_  
Dickens.  
He knew the passage; it was from 'Our Mutual Friend'. The book was one of his favourites and he found himself reciting the words along with the voice.  
_This is silly. I'm going mad. I must be._  
The voice faded and for a while there was silence again.  
It returned stronger the next time; a female's voice, but not one he recognised. It was singing.  
_~ Ah, leave me not to pine, alone and desolate;~  
Pirates of Penzance? Now I know I'm bonkers. Oh well, if I'm going to spend an eternity here I might as well be insane. It will stop me getting bored._  
Mad or not, Marcus found himself enjoying the visits of the voice, wondering which G&S aria he would hear next. The voice, a soprano by the tone, had regaled him with the well known tunes from the popular operettas and had begun on the songs from other Broadway shows.  
Interspersed with the singing, she still read from books. Marcus had begun to think of the voice as a person. He pictured her sitting in a garden, maybe on a swing, children listening at her feet.  
When had he begun to imagine children?  
It was the other voices that occasionally joined the female. High pitched; a boy and a girl, sometimes arguing by the rhythms of their words. He could not clearly hear what they said; it was only the female that was perceptible. It was strange that his mind should conjure such an idyllic family group.  
Except that he had once dreamed of having such a family. Long ago, before his world had been shattered by the Shadows, and his future became as uncertain as the next battle. Not even as he had fallen for Susan had he once let himself hope that they could have a future together. Only in his farewell message to Marie did he finally admit the depth of his love and the passing thought that Susan might love him back.  
If he was imagining what might have been, then why did he hear a stranger's voice instead of Susan's?  
_Loopy. Definitely loopy._

_Susan._  
It was unquestionably her voice this time and not the female's. Maybe his mind had become bored and had decided to play a joke on him. Why else would Susan be reading 'Sleeping Beauty'?  
_~But the third fairy had not yet bestowed her gift. "The princess shall not die," she said, "But fall into a deep sleep."~_  
Entranced, he listened; drinking in every word that her low timbre spoke. There was a rare softness in her voice as she told the tale of the Princess who was woken by a kiss. Always with him Susan had been the Commander, barking orders or ranting in a rage. Never had she spoken with such gentleness to him.  
Yes she had. Just once. 'Thank you'. Two words, the only appreciation she had openly shown of his company. Bursting through the numb shock Marcus had felt then on the Whitestar, his heart had soared.  
To be cruelly ripped from him only minutes later.  
_Susan!_  
The story finished, she had gone again. Would she return, or would the female resume her singing? Even if it was only in his mind, Marcus wished for Susan to lull him in his eternity.  
_~I love you Marcus. Please come back to me.~  
Susan?_  
Was that his mind playing another trick or did he really hear the woman he love say she loved him too?  
His mind wouldn't be that cruel, would it?  
Then he felt a breath on his face and a feather light touch on his mouth. The kiss was brief, but the feeling of it remained, tingling like electricity.  
'Come back to me' she had said. Susan had called him. She was here!  
Marcus opened his eyes.

  
To be continued... 


	2. Part 2 Reawakening

**Part 2 – Reawakening**

The light, soft though it seemed to be, hurt his eyes and the ceiling above him refused to focus.   
"Bugger." He croaked as he tried to move. His entire body refused to cooperate. Where was he? On Babylon 5, or Earth?   
Being effectively blind, Marcus closed his eyes again and tried to determine where he was from the sounds, smells and objects that he could feel around him. The air was clinically clean with the ever-present underlying aroma of disinfectant that was common of all medical facilities. Machinery hummed beside his bed, and from the sensors he could feel attached to his skin, he decided that it must be a medical scanner. There were also tubes stuck into his body that he could feel when he breathed; one in his abdomen and the other near to his groin.   
Did they have to feed and catheterise him? How long had he been unconscious for? Weeks?   
The thought that he had been poked and prodded like a lab rat disgusted Marcus. He had tried to die with dignity but instead he had been reduced to the status of a baby; incapable of performing even the most basic of bodily functions for himself.   
He tried to move again, concentrating all his effort on his left arm. The hand rose by an inch before he had to let it drop. Could he do nothing? Even his scream of frustration came out as little more than a groan.   
The machine beside him suddenly started bleeping an alarm. His exertion had probably triggered something. That would mean more people pulling him about whether he wanted them to or not, but at least he might get some questions answered.   
There was a sudden intake of breath from beside him.   
"Who's there?" He whispered. Had there been someone watching him? He opened his eyes again and tried to discern who it was. The person was hurriedly leaving the room without a word, a blur of brown moving out of the door. He tried to call after them but the person either wasn't listening, or couldn't hear his weak voice.   
Had that been Delenn keeping vigil beside him. If it was, why had she left?   
As expected, half a dozen medics poured into his room. They began checking his vital signs seemingly unaware that he was awake and Marcus was now too exhausted to even try and speak. The Minbari; that was what they were speaking anyway; passed technical terms above him, then spoke a name that he recognised. Dr Franklin.   
"Stephen." He managed the barest of a whisper.   
Marcus was never sure if the medics heard him above the bustle; or if they noticed his open eyes; but it was only a minute later that the brown blur of a face entered Marcus' view.   
"Are you in there my old friend?" The familiar voice confirmed that Babylon 5's chief medical officer was overseeing his treatment. At least it had not been a stranger pulling him about; that was some comfort.   
"Where the bloody hell else would I be?"   
Stephen laughed at this hoarse whisper, "You do have a nasty habit of disappearing on me Marcus." The doctor replied, "But I am glad to see you back in the land of the living. How do you feel?"   
Marcus was really struggling now, exhaustion forcing him to pause between words.   
"Can't move---can't see---can't speak."   
"Rest my friend," Stephen unnecessarily placed a restraining hand on his shoulder. "You've been out for a while and it will take longer for your body to recover than it did for your soul. I will examine you later, but I believe that there is nothing wrong that some time will not heal. Patience." 

Patience was not always one of Marcus' best traits, especially when he had questions to be answered. Stephen examined him everyday during the first week after he woke up, confirming that it was lack of use that had rendered his body uncooperative. He had been put on a diet of high protein goo designed to rapidly build up his strength. This meant that one of the tubes in Marcus' body could be removed, but Stephen insisted that the catheter remained.   
"Unless you want us to change your bed sheets twice a day." The doctor made clear what the consequences would be.   
He was also subjected to daily physiotherapy to stimulate his muscles. At first, a young Minbari moved his limbs for him, but he made rapid progress to lifting light weights, although he wasn't allowed out of bed until Stephen was sure he could support his own weight.   
At least with regaining the use of his arms, Marcus could begin doing things for himself, such as reading his books that he had found by his bed, and eating. He had quickly grown bored of Stephen's mush and had exercised his vocal chords by loudly demanding some real food. They had given in surprisingly easily and presented him with a plate of sausage and mash.   
Other demands were frustratingly not listened to. He had asked for access to the com system but was politely told that it was not possible. When he had requested to see Delenn, he was reverently informed that the Entil'zha was not available and that Ni'Fa had ordered no visitors to be allowed.   
When had Delenn gained the title Ni'Fa? There was a lot that did not make sense to Marcus. He did not recognise any of the Minbari medics that treated him and Stephen had not been to see him since his eyesight had improved enough to read; and no one would answer his questions. Most barely talked to him, just smiling and bowing whilst he ranted in all three dialects. The only Minbari he could hold a conversation with was Rennith, the physiotherapist, and then it was only small talk or games of I-spy to waive off boredom.   
They had all been ordered not to tell him something, that was obvious. But what?   
The fact that he was on Minbar and not Babylon 5 was worrying. Had they lost the war with Earth and been forced to abandon the station? Were they now even more renegade, taking refuge under the protection of the Minbari? Had the Captain been recaptured, or more likely, killed? And what of Susan? Had she survived, or had he failed? He was sure he had heard her voice, but had it really been her or just his subconscious that had not been ready to die?   
The question of Susan was not the only one he needed an answer to. What of Marie? She would still be on Minbar and worried by his message to her as well as any stories that had probably been circulated.   
Marcus was angst-ridden thinking of the pain and grief that she would be suffering; and there would be nobody that she could talk to because nobody knew who she really was. His little girl was hurting and it was all his fault! That thought together with the possibility that he had failed Susan, brought his own guilt to the surface. His had been a selfish act without thought to the repercussions it could bring to the other unwitting participants in his life. Could his absence from the battle have been the deciding factor? If he had stayed, would it have made a difference? How many more lives had he destroyed?   
He had to turn his face to his pillow to muffle his sobs of remorse. He remained like that long into the night. 

The next morning, he managed to lift a piece of paper and a pen from one of the medics and in the short time before Rennith appeared, scribbled a note. 

_Marie,  
You've probably heard some strange stories. Please don't worry. I'm alive and will come see you as soon as I am able._

He signed it with a little stick figure, one arm pointing straight up. It was their own private symbol. The figure was actually signalling the semaphore letter D, which from Marie meant 'daughter' and from Marcus meant 'Dad'.   
His physiotherapy session went well, with the young Minbari announcing that Marcus would be allowed to stand up the next day. Marcus then asked for a favour.   
"Rennith," he began, "I know you can't tell me anything about what's happening outside this room…"   
"I have my orders."   
"I know that. Is it against your orders for me to send a message to someone?" Marcus began to speak faster, hoping to persuade the Minbari before he said no. "It's not to anyone important and I don't want a reply. It's just that there's this girl, about thirteen, staying with the family Mir, who I made friends with and I just want to let her know that I'm all right. You can read it if you like" He finished in a rush, holding the note out to Rennith, who looked at it, considering.   
"I won't make you play I-spy any more." Marcus coaxed the Minbari, and was rewarded by a slight smile and a nod of the head.   
Marcus sighed in relief. "Thank you."   
In one matter, his mind was now eased. Marie might now be worrying about him, but he would rather have that than she think she had lost her entire family; again. With that slight reassurance, Marcus turned his thoughts to the following day. Getting out of bed would mean finally being disconnected from the machines, and having that final damned tube removed. He would at last regain his independence and exert some control over his life.   
The Minbari believed that there was a time for everything, and up to now Marcus had waited, playing the dutiful patient, allowing his body to recover the strength that he knew it had lost.   
The time for waiting was nearly over.   
Tomorrow was the time to act. 

The day started as normal as usual and Marcus was careful to keep up his customary banter so not to arouse suspicion. He ate breakfast, was dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt, and then to pass time pretended to read a book. It was the only way he could think of to stop his hands shaking with anticipation.   
Eventually, Rennith arrived, accompanied by one of the medics. Two minutes later he was released from the monitors and gingerly feeling for the floor with one bare foot.   
"It's cold!" he yelled, retracting the leg. This elicited a laugh from the two Minbari. "You could have told me!"   
Marcus guardedly eyed the sniggering pair. "Swines." He muttered under his breath as he once again reached for the floor.   
The hilarity dissipated when Rennith and the medic took an arm each around their shoulders and slowly helped Marcus to stand.   
"Do not be surprised if you experience faintness." Rennith announced. "Your body will need to adjust before it is able to pump enough blood to your brain."   
Marcus did feel a little lightheaded and was glad of the support. He took a few deep breaths and then slowly let his legs take his weight. There was a moment when his muscles threatened to spasm and give way but Marcus waited for it to subside. Then he lifted one foot and took a step.   
A moments pause, and he took another one.   
It was a long ten minutes, circumnavigating the room, Marcus calculating when to take each step and the Minbari shuffling with him. They returned to the bed and Marcus let himself to be lowered back onto it. The exertion of walking just those few steps had surprised him because he felt like he'd just gone five rounds with a Zarg.   
Rennith appeared pleased though as he predicted it would only be a couple of weeks before Marcus would be back pike fighting.   
"That soon." He quipped, sinking back to the pillows and trying to ignore his heart thumping against his ribcage and the lights that were dancing before his eyes. This was going to be harder than he thought. 

Alone once more, Marcus thought over his plan and considered delaying it for a few days.   
He would be stronger which would mean the greater chance of him succeeding, but it was more likely that they would expect him to try something and so watch him more. Now had to be the time whilst he had the element of surprise.   
Throwing back the covers, Marcus listened for movement in the corridor outside his room before swinging his legs off the mattress and warily standing up. He leant heavily on the bed as he repeated the exercise from earlier and slowly took one step after another. He reached the foot, and with one hand on the bed frame, took a deep breath, then launched himself towards the cupboard six feet away.   
The first step held. The second, his knee buckled and Marcus landed heavily on the floor.   
"Bugger!" He gritted his teeth against the pain and waited to see if anyone had been alerted by the noise. No one came, so he shifted himself to a sitting position and pulled open the cupboard door.   
"Bingo."   
There were his clothes. He had hoped they hadn't taken them away. It would have been very difficult to get around the Ranger compound in bare feet and out of uniform. He gathered everything into a bundle, and held it against his chest with one hand, whilst pushing himself across the floor on his rear. It wasn't very dignified, but he didn't dare try walking again. One lot of sore knees was enough. A glance at the clock told him that it was almost time for his next meal to arrive. He threw the bundle of clothes onto the bed before pulling himself up. At least his arms had gained more exercise during his bed rest and so were strong enough to support his weight.   
It was over an hour later before Marcus was able to leave the bed again. He had eaten his food with his knees uncomfortably propped up by his uniform and boots, then as swiftly as he was able to, changed. His Ranger pin, which he had found by his bed, he pinned to his cape, but his pike had disappeared.   
"Oh well," He thought. "I shouldn't need to fight anyone." Still, it concerned him. He hoped it hadn't been lost in the confusion.   
His third time standing felt more secure than the others. His legs were firmer although the surroundings had an unnerving habit of swaying if he didn't hold on to something. He moved out of his room and along the corridor with one hand against the wall to keep him walking straight.   
As was usual with his plans, he had not thought in too much detail. All he wanted was to find out what had happened; to Susan; to Earth; to the station. He had to know if he had failed. That was the only possible reason they refused to tell him anything. If he could find an empty room with a computer he would only need half an hour. That was probably all he would get before it was discovered that he was gone.   
He reached an external door and paused before going outside. So far he had been lucky and had encountered no one. Now he heard footsteps.   
Marcus stepped back out of sight and waited. Standing still was almost worse than walking as he had to grip onto the door handle tightly to convince his brain that he was not actually spinning around as it tried to tell him.   
The group passed, chatting quite happily about their latest training session. Marcus waited until their voices had faded before venturing outside.   
Then he stopped.   
He looked at the view in bewilderment. The rocky skyline of Tuzanor was unchanged, but the gardens of the Ranger compound, which stretched out below the walkway he was on, were in full bloom. That would make it mid summer. But it had only been spring on Minbar when he had…   
Four months!   
Had he been lying in that bed for four months? It was no wonder that his muscles had wasted to the degree that they had. Anything could have happened in that time. It was even more imperative that he found a computer now.   
He struggled on, finding it harder to walk as he pushed his body further than he should really be doing. It was not long before he stumbled and half collapsed against the wall. It was there, eyes closed, breathing deeply and failing to utilise any of his mediation exercises, that he heard the children.   
Two; arguing as was the wont with siblings. Marcus had never known children to be allowed within the Ranger compound. Things must have changed dramatically if that was the case. Unable to curb his curiosity, Marcus falteringly made his way to the corner where the sound was emanating.   
He stumbled into a small balcony garden; a few plants and a tree with a scrap of lawn. The children, a boy and a girl, were fighting on the grass. From the open french windows came the sound of a piano, possibly the parents.   
"Give it back Will." Demanded the girl of her brother, "Or I'll tell Mum."   
The boy was holding a doll just out of the girl's reach.   
"Jump for it Sophie." He teased. The girl jumped, but failed. She was about the burst into tears.   
"Give your sister back her doll." Marcus said.   
The two children spun towards him in surprise, then as one began to back away, wide eyed with fear.   
"Don't be afraid," Marcus tried to reassure the children, "I didn't mean to startle you." It did not make sense. Minbari welcomed strangers, they did not warn their children against them. And here in the middle of the Anla'shok training facility, to have anyone shy away from a Ranger was completely illogical.   
"I just want to talk." He tried again. The world around him was starting to move further away and detach itself from him. His body had just about had enough.   
"We were told not to talk to you." The boy answered flatly.   
Before Marcus could say another word, his vision darkened and his head spun out of control. He staggered backwards into a bench and sat down heavily. Through the fog in his head he thought he heard the boy shout and the girl scream.   
Then another voice pierced the buzzing that threatened to overwhelm him. It was the voice of Dickens; the soprano of G the woman of his nowhere place. She spoke one word.   
"Dad!" 

  
To be continued... 


	3. Part 3 Reunion

**Part 3 - Reunion**

He was vaguely aware of the activity around him. The children protesting their innocence at having done nothing wrong; their mother reassuring them. Marcus paid little heed as he fought to remain conscious.   
Then someone took his hands; human contact that he could focus on to stay anchored. The voice, right in front of him, spoke again.   
"Dad?"   
Marcus took a deep breath before slowly lifting his head and looking on the face of an attractive woman, her blue eyes filled with concern. His own expression must have been one of bewilderment as she asked once more,   
"Dad. Are you all right?"   
Why was she calling him that? Had she mistaken him for someone else? The title did not even make sense, as he was no older than her.   
In confusion, Marcus cast his gaze around the garden. It stopped on the little girl, still clutching her doll. He had not noticed before, but the blonde curls framed features that were devastatingly familiar to him. It was the face of the small child, barely alive, that he had lifted from the drifting lifepod. The large blue eyes were the same as those that had opened after weeks of an anguished bedside vigil to immediately enslave his heart.   
The girl standing before him was the image of his own daughter, and yet…   
Marcus turned back to the woman kneeling on the grass by the bench. Now he saw in her face the traits shared by both mother and daughter; the family resemblance that could not be denied. As the younger was a past version, then this had to be…   
"Marie." His breathless exclamation was less a question than a statement of disbelief. How could this middle-aged mother be his daughter? Mentally, he peeled back the years from her face, to determine if what he saw was the truth. Had the teenager he had reluctantly left behind, grown and matured into this beautiful woman?   
"Is that you Marie?" This time it really was a question.   
His answer was a dumb, frantic nodding as Marie desperately fought back tears of relief and joy.   
Marcus closed his eyes and took a shuddering breath before asking his next question. One that had to be asked, but whose answer he now suspected, and dreaded.   
"How long?"   
His eyes remained shut as he waited. He squeezed Marie's hands as he prepared himself. Marie returned the gesture.   
"Twenty five years." The whisper reached his ears.   
Two and a half decades. A lifetime. The concept was so unlikely that it was incomprehensible. A myriad of questions popped into his head, but Marcus suppressed them all, except one.   
"Susan? Is she alive?"   
When there was no answer he opened his eyes. Marie was no longer looking at him, but towards the open doors. Standing there was a figure, face hidden within the hood of the cloak worn by Ranger One.   
"Delenn.." Marcus began to speak, but was silenced as Marie desperately shook her head at him. Then he realised exactly who was hiding within the darkness of the hood.   
"Susan!"   
In a moment, he was up and across the small garden in three strides.   
Next he was flat on his back, having received a right cross to the jaw.   
"You Bastard!" Susan screamed before disappearing with a swirl of brown cloak.   
Marcus decided that it was safest to stay on the ground as he gingerly felt his chin. "What did I do to deserve that?" he asked to no one in particular.   
"You went and died on her!" Marcus looked up at a new Marie. One that was chillingly similar to the Commander.   
"You gave your life to her." The woman continued her rant, "She was ready to die, and you took it away without even asking her. It took Susan years to accept that you were dead and to get her life back together. Now you're back and she has to re-evaluate her life, again. And you ask 'what did you do'?"   
Marcus remained where he was, knowing from experience that that was the safest course of action. He wondered if he would escape relatively unscathed.   
"Go and find her," he was ordered, "Apologise and work out any issues between you, because I refuse to be an arbitrator."   
He didn't move.   
"Go." Marie repeated, "She won't face you herself."   
Still he didn't move.   
"Now!"   
Marcus scrambled uncertainly to his feet, the word shocking him to action. He turned and was about to enter the house when he felt arms encircling him from behind.   
"Welcome back Dad." Marie spoke into his ear. "Be gentle with Susan; she's terrified." Then with a final hug, he was released. 

It was easy to find the room where Susan had retreated; it was the only one with a locked door.   
Getting in was another matter. Marcus hammered and shouted until light-headedness warned him to stop. He was leaning against the wall and considering his next move when someone quietly approached. Someone who, although the hair was greyer and the lines around the eyes were deeper, the years had been kind to.   
"Marcus, you should not be up yet."   
The Ranger immediately straightened and bowed to Delenn. She responded by taking his hand in both of her own; a gesture so intimate and unexpected by Marcus that for a moment he could think of nothing to say.   
"You have no need to bow to me old friend" The Minbari appeared unfazed by his state of confusion. "You have met with Susan?"   
"After a fashion, but.."   
"But now she refuses to see you." Delenn nodded knowingly. "I cannot help you enter here, but what is it you humans say?" The search of her memory for the correct phrase was played out on Delenn's face, "Ah yes. 'Whenever God closes a door, somewhere he opens a window.'" She finished with a smile.   
Delenn waited for Marcus to work through the meaning of the phrase.   
"Susan's room has a window!" he finally realised. "How do I get to it?"   
Delenn was grinning now, "It is accessible from the garden."   
With a very quick bow, Marcus retraced his steps.   
Susan's window opened onto a small balcony, about ten feet away from the garden wall and there was an outcrop of stone that connected the two. Without hesitating, Marcus climbed onto the parapet and began to work his way along the ledge.   
A cry came from the garden behind him,   
"Dad! What are you doing? Come back!"   
"Can't, sorry." Marcus called back to Marie, "You told me to talk to Susan. That's what I'm doing."   
"But you'll fall!"   
"Only if I let go."   
Sidestepping, he inched his way along, fingers gripping a groove in the stonework. Knowing not to look down, Marcus focused on the rock in front of him. A conversation to his left gave him some indication as to how far he had gone and he estimated he was over half way before his head began to swim.   
"Not now…" Marcus tightened the grip with his fingers, locking them in place while he concentrated on breathing deeply. He only had a few more feet to go. He couldn't faint now. He couldn't.   
He wasn't sure how long he remained there, resting his forehead against the stone. A high pitched shout made him turn his head towards the garden.   
"Go on Grandpa!" The boy, Will, yelled encouragement. "You can do it!"   
Marcus flashed him a grin then returned to inching towards Susan's room. Will continued shouting, joined almost immediately by his sister and Mother. Spurred on, Marcus soon felt the balcony pressing against his leg. He grasped it with one hand and clambered to safety.   
A cheer rose up behind him. Marcus gave them a weak wave before stumbling into the darkness beyond the window.   
"Susan?"   
It was all he could say, as this time will power was not enough and he blacked out on to the floor. 

Susan watched over Marcus; the crazed, insane, lunatic of a Ranger. She shouldn't have been surprised when he disappeared. Actually, thinking back, she hadn't. She had been irritated, angered and worried, but not surprised.   
She shouldn't have hit him; that part had surprised her and she groaned now as she remembered the look of distress on his face as he went down. She shouldn't have done it, but she hadn't been prepared to meet him; wasn't ready for him to see her, her grey hair and lined face. She had grown old, and she wanted him to think of her as young and beautiful for just a little longer.   
She had panicked and run. It was all her fault. If she had opened the door when Marcus had first banged on it, then he wouldn't be sleeping on her bed now. The idiot could have killed himself climbing to her window. She thought he had when he collapsed and she had panicked again and called Stephen. The doctor assured her that Marcus was just sleeping, a result of leaving his bed too soon, and that he would wake up when he was ready. Together, they had lifted him onto the bed and since then Susan had been waiting.   
He had already met Marie, so he must know how long he had been frozen. He can't have been ready for that news. Why hadn't the stupid man stayed in the medical facility until he was stronger?   
He wouldn't have been Marcus if he had done that. Susan allowed herself a small smile at that thought. She had forgotten just how determined and reckless he could be; it was the one thing that she both hated and loved about the man.   
Did she love him?   
She had asked herself that question countless times since he had woken up. It had been easy to say the words to his sleeping form, but now that he was actually back in her life again for real, her flight instinct was kicking in.   
She had thought about what Delenn had said about soulmates; how, when you find one, your life becomes perfect in unity. Susan wasn't quite sure what that meant. Certainly, when Marcus had left, her life had not been complete, and since he had returned, her bed had become too large for just her.   
She did want Marcus in her life? She could love the man in front of her? Or at least what she remembered of the Ranger. What if she was in love with an ideal, formed and distilled from the long years of memories and regrets? Had she conveniently blocked out all the negative aspects of his personality that might cause her to hate him? The one certainty she had known then and still believed was that she trusted him with her heart more than any other person she had known.   
But there was still the twenty-five years to account for. Marcus hadn't changed, but the rest of the world had; she had. She was no longer the young fiery commander he had saved. What if he didn't love her any more? What if he left her?   
The choice was not hers; she would have to accept that. They had brought Marcus back, the decision they had all made. He would now know his grandchildren, see what a wonderful woman his daughter had become. He would know that his sacrifice had not been in vain. After that, the choice of what to do with his returned life was his alone.   
Susan may have wanted him to remain at her side, but his was a spirit as free as her own. She could never force it to be caged.   
  
To be continued...


	4. Part 4 Remembering

**Part 4 - Remembering**   
  
Marcus woke slowly. 

It was some moments before his brain registered the fact that the surface he was lying on was considerably softer than his medical bed, and the covering felt like some kind of silk under his hand. The room was quieter too, the twittering of birds having replaced the bleeping of the med scanners. He inhaled deeply as he stirred; a mixture of jasmine and some expensive Centauri perfume were in the air. Only when he finally opened his eyes to a heavily embroidered canopy above him, did Marcus remember where he was. 

"Susan?" His voice was louder than he had intended, especially when the soft reply came from just across the bed. 

"I'm here Marcus." 

He turned his head to see a figure sitting on the bed. The gloom within the hood she still wore meant that her face was just a shadow, but there was no mistaking who it was. 

"Susan." He barely spoke her name. The vision that had flattened him with a punch had not just been a figment of his imagination. She was alive! She was breathing and talking just three feet away from him. 

He had done it! 

Let her be mad at him; batter him to a pulp; he didn't care. Her anger would be an angel's song to him. Joy and relief bubbled up, choking him with tears. For the first time in years; no, decades; he hadn't failed to save someone he loved. 

He sat up and reached out to her, wanting to see her face and let himself be burnt by the fire of her eyes. But before his fingertips could brush the material of the hood, her hand gripped his wrist. 

"No." The icy tone indicated that the order was final, "Don't look at me." 

"But Susan…" 

"Stephen is angry with you," She changed the subject. "He wants you back in the med facility." 

"Stephen fusses too much." Marcus played along, trying to gauge the mood of the woman in front of him. "I'm not going back there." 

"I persuaded him to let you stay here," Susan continued, "As long as you don't pull any more stupid stunts, like…" 

Marcus' next comment died on his lips when he heard her voice falter. He waited for her to finish, but she didn't. When the grip on his wrist tightened and Susan's shoulders started to shake, he knew she was crying. Susan never cried, at least not in front of him. Whenever she had come close, she had always turned into the professional soldier, in command of the situation. Each time it happened, his heart had ached to watch her inner struggle, when all he had wanted was to hold her tight and let her frustrations be poured onto him. 

The courage that he had always lacked before did not fail him now. He pulled Susan towards him and wrapped his arms around her thin body. The strength hidden within the small frame surprised Marcus as Susan fought against his embrace, but he only tightened his hold. 

"Let go of me!" she tried to yell. 

"No. Not this time. I'm not going to lose you again." 

Susan struggled for a little longer before giving up the fight and slumping against him. She cried into his shoulder and Marcus let her, weeping himself at the unbelievable joy that the woman he loved was in his arms. He rocked her gently until all her tears were spent. 

---

"Why did you do it?" Susan didn't lift her head when she eventually spoke and asked the inevitable question. Marcus continued to hold her as he contemplated his answer. 

Should he tell her that he had witnessed her death a year before it had happened? That the time flash on Babylon four had showed him the wreckage crashing into the bridge of the Whitestar, and her broken body bleeding at his feet? That he had made a vow to never allow that to happen? That the reason he had wangled himself onto her Whitestar every opportunity he could was to ensure her survival? 

Should he tell her that when his nightmare came true and he was helpless to stop it, his whole world had come crashing down? When he had held her still form in the lifepod, he had howled at the universe for its unfairness, pleading for their places to be reversed? That when the rescuers had arrived they had had to prise Susan from his arms? 

Should he tell her that he couldn't stand by and watch another person that he loved die before him? That he couldn't fail again? That life without her in it would be empty? 

He couldn't tell her that. 

"I love you." It was the underlying truth in all his actions regarding Susan. 

Marcus felt Susan sigh into his shoulder. 

"You loved me then." She said. 

"I love you now." 

"You don't know me now." Her voice gained in strength. "I've changed." 

"That punch you gave me tells me that your temper is still the same." Marcus chuckled. 

Susan pulled back then and he didn't stop her. She had something to say. 

"I'm sorry I hit you." She kept her head down, still hiding her face. "I shouldn't have done that. Will you forgive me?" 

"Always." Marcus reached out for her hand, desperate for contact. When she didn't resist, his hopes lifted slightly that maybe things would work out. 

"You once called me the most beautiful woman you'd seen." 

Marcus nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Susan was finding this hard, he could tell. 

"I'm not beautiful any more." 

There it was. Her fear. 

"I've grown old and ugly." 

"Susan." 

"No!" she snapped, "I don't want your sympathy." 

"I'm not giving it." Marcus thought desperately, trying to phrase his next words so that she didn't get mad at him. "I didn't fall in love with just your beauty. I fell in love with your courage, strength and intelligence. You have the soul of a warrior. That cannot have changed." 

He waited for Susan to think about that. She stayed still for a few moments, then slowly pulled back her hood and raised her face to him for the first time. 

"Look at me then." 

Marcus stared, drinking in every line and grey hair. Yes, she had grown old, but not as old as she would become. In her face were chiselled the years of experience, knowledge and care. She was still magnificent with a beauty that only age could bestow. He reached out a hand and tenderly traced a line by her eye. There was a story behind that line, behind all of them. The tales of her life written on her face, and Marcus wanted to hear every single one. 

Then a tear fell as Susan began to cry once more. He brushed it away with his thumb and cupped her face with his hand. When she leaned into his touch, Marcus moved his face closer to hers, stopping only a breath away. There was no order to retreat, so daring as he had never done before, he closed the gap, gently placing the lightest of kisses on her lips. 

He pulled back, his mouth buzzing from the briefest of contacts, and looked into her eyes. 

The conversation they held then spoke more than a lifetime of talking. Silent messages sent and received by their gazes. Messages that told of love, and regrets, and hopes. 

This time it was Susan who crossed the distance, twining her fingers into his hair and searching out his mouth with twenty-five years of unacknowledged love. 

---

"Did you ever get married?" Marcus asked as he and Susan lay on the bed. A four poster bed! He still chuckled at the surrealness of a Centauri imperial bed on Minbar being slept in by Commander Ivanova, now head of the Rangers. But then Vir had always had a soft spot for Susan. Emperor Vir. That was going to take some getting used to. 

Everything was going to take some getting used to. 

When they had resumed talking, which was when his stomach had demanded food, Susan had begun filling him in on the major changes of the galaxy. She had not let Marcus off the bed for fear of him fainting, so they reclined Roman style with a tray between them. After the history lesson, the questions began. Now that the hardest questions of all had been asked and answered, the enquiries came thick and fast; until they returned to Susan. There was no ring on her finger, but that didn't mean that she wasn't married. 

"No." Susan replied. "I've never married." 

"Why?" 

She took a breath before answering. "There isn't any one reason. I was a mess for five years after you…, you know." Marcus nodded. There was no need to talk of that again. Susan continued, "I wouldn't let anyone get close to me. Then I was in deep space for another five years. Being the captain of a starship is not the best situation for a relationship. After that, I suppose I got used to being single." 

"I never meant for you to be alone." Marcus interrupted, "I wanted you to find someone who could make you happy, and for you to grow old surrounded by people who loved you." 

"I wasn't alone." Susan reassured him, "Corwin is still one of my closest friends." 

"But you never found that special someone." 

"I don't know if I was afraid to lose anyone again, or that no one touched me in the same way you did." 

"I'm sorry." Marcus apologised. 

"Don't be." She was not going to let him feel guilty now. "I had Marie. Without her I doubt I would be here now. She is the greatest gift you could give me, next to your life, and for that I thank you." 

Sometime during the exchange, their hands had sought each other out. Clasped together, Marcus lifted them and kissed the back of her hand. Susan repeated the gesture. 

Marcus sniffed and brushed away the tears that threatened. "I congratulate you on what you've done with Marie," he tried to lighten the mood. "She has become a most remarkable woman." 

"I wouldn't have said I did much. She is a Cole through and through." Susan giggled at a memory, "You know she disappeared from Medlab when Stephen first met her?" 

"Must be a family trait." Marcus chuckled before turning serious again, "No. She is as much your daughter as she is mine. That speech she gave me in the garden was pure Ivanova." He could have sworn Susan blushed then. "She was the shyest of children," he continued, "Even at school she didn't have many friends. When I went to get her the last time, she was hiding behind a bookcase in the library." 

"She hated that school. She was bullied." 

Marcus half sat up, "Why didn't she tell me? I would have taken her out, rather than let her be unhappy." 

"She loved you too much." Susan tried to explain, "You were having problems with the company and she didn't want to add to them." 

"That didn't matter!" Marcus was becoming agitated, angry with himself for missing what should have been obvious. He would have never let her go back if she had asked not to. "I never wanted to let her go, but I thought it was the best thing for her. Every time she got on that shuttle at the end of the holidays it was harder for me to say good-bye. I nearly called her back once because I didn't want her to leave." A cold hand of dread grasped hold of him then as he remembered exactly when that was. "If I had, she would have been on Arisia when the Shadows attacked." That realisation numbed him to his core with the dreadful conclusion. "I would have lost her." 

Susan's arms slipping around him brought Marcus back to the present. Her whispered reassurances and soft touches driving away the fear. He pushed the thought to the back of his mind as he lay back on the bed. 

"I've missed so much," he admitted. "You've seen my little girl grow up, and for that I am envious." 

"You're not going to miss any more of it though." That sounded like an order to Marcus. "You have two grandchildren to help raise." Was that a sparkle of mischief in Susan's eyes? 

"Tell me of Marie Susan." He needed to know what kind of woman she had become; the experiences that had shaped her. 

Susan looked unsure. "All of it?" she asked awkwardly. Marcus frowned. What did she mean? 

"What happened?" he asked. 

Susan couldn't meet his eyes. 

"I nearly lost her," She whispered. "Twice." 

The silence hung heavy between them before Susan turned to look at Marcus again. 

"Can you forgive me?" 

There was nothing to forgive. If it had been anyone other than the woman beside him, he was sure Marie would not have survived for this conversation to take place. He pulled Susan into his arms and kissed her as reassurance. 

"Tell me everything." He murmured. 

So she did. And he listened late into the night, imagining himself being there, witnessing his; no, their daughter, taking her rightful place among the heroes of history.   
  
To be continued...


	5. Part 5 Re Evaluating

**Part 5 - Re-Evaluating**

The pre-dawn found the pair lying together, sharing each other's warmth. Only Susan was asleep though. 

Marcus had slept a little, but he had spent so much of the previous day unconscious, that his body demanded to be awake. For an hour, maybe two, he had watched Susan sleeping, her head resting comfortably on his chest, an arm flung territorially across his body. She was so beautiful and serene, that Marcus could have remained there for an eternity; feeling her heart beating, watching the gentle movement of her ribcage as she breathed, and playing with a loose strand of her hair. 

Unfortunately, nature had a stronger calling than contentment. Carefully disentangling himself, Marcus went in search of the bathroom. On his return, Susan had shifted position but not woken. He carefully pulled one edge of the patchwork quilt over her to stop her getting cold. After one last longing gaze at Susan's sleeping form, Marcus picked up his boots and padded through to the living area. 

His body was still feeling a little out of sorts, but just the one day of activity had worked his muscles a good deal of the way back to their former strength. They were complaining though. He stretched the crampness of weeks of bed rest out of them. Boy, did it feel good! He couldn't remember the last time he had had a good stretch. 

Tentatively, he began a set of exercises; part of the Rangers' morning routine designed to prepare the body for the day ahead after a night's rest. The slow movements, similar to Tai Chi, gently worked all the muscles in turn whilst calming the mind. Thus was the correct balance achieved that was necessary to complete a day's work. 

Or so the Minbari said. Marcus had always found the exercises easier to complete than silent meditation, and they did serve as a good warm up before the more vigorous training. Today though, as he wobbled in the gloom of Susan's quarters, he used them to gauge how much further he had to go before he was back at full fitness. 

Quite a way, he decided as he stopped to catch his breath, his heart pounding, with only half of the movements completed. 

"Computer; lights." 

On the cabinet where Marcus had leaned to recover, were a number of framed photographs. The one nearest to his hand had caught his eye and he picked it up for a better look. The two figures in the picture were unmistakable, but their appearances were startling. Susan had never said she had cut her hair! The effect was striking but a little severe. She also looked thin and pale as if she had been ill. The other person in the photo appeared to be perfectly healthy and Marcus spent a few moments drinking in the image of Marie. He slotted her teenage appearance into his mental timeline between the child he had left and the woman he had met the day before. 

His gaze roamed over the other photos, each one a moment of the years he did not remember passing. Marie's life laid out before him. 

One by one, he picked them up, matching the picture with what Susan had related the night before. A graduation photo; holiday snaps; a wedding group; family portrait. He suddenly felt like he was looking at a stranger. The shy little girl that his daughter had been was long gone and a woman he didn't know was in her place. Would they be able to recapture the relationship that they had once had, or was it no more, along with his lost years? 

OoOoOoO

A sound from the corridor outside shook Marcus out of his gloom. Who else was awake for the dawn? 

Quietly, he followed the footsteps to the garden. He paused in the shadows as Delenn watched the sun come up, not wanting to disturb an obviously private moment. 

"You are up early old friend." 

Marcus was startled to be discovered, "I am sorry Entil'zha," He stuttered, "I did not wish to intrude." 

"You did not intrude Marcus." She smiled and patted the seat next to her, "Come sit; I have something of yours. And please call me Delenn. Titles are surely reserved for more formal occasions." 

He sat on the stone bench and was overjoyed at the object placed in his hands. Lovingly, he ran his fingers over the ridges of the metal cylinder, feeling its comfortable weight in his grip. Finally, he opened his pike, the familiar action still smooth. The one part of him that had been missing was now returned. He was complete. 

"Have you kept it all this time?" He asked. 

"No." Delenn replied, with a hint of sadness and regret. "I gave it to Lennier when he joined the Rangers. It was returned to me after his passing." 

"I am sorry about Lennier." Marcus closed the pike. "I always imagined him to be at your side. I hope he found peace." 

"That I do not know." The older Minbari was thoughtful, "But I do know that he bore your pike with honour, and that it served him well." 

"Of that I am glad." 

As if to signal a change in subject, Marcus saw Delenn settle into her 'discussion' pose. He knew it well; every conversation with that pose ended with a confession. 

"How is Susan?" She began. 

"Still sleeping. We talked." 

"And how are you?" 

"Alive." He joked, "Although I'm sure Susan has wanted to kill me more than once." 

"Not as much as you might think." Delenn replied "Stephen wants to see you." She continued, "He said last night that you shouldn't 'over exert' yourself before you are strong enough." 

Marcus grinned at this. He didn't know if Delenn got the reference, but he did understand the implied activity. 

"I was careful." He answered cryptically. Let Stephen wonder what he had been up to. As it was, he had nearly passed out from just the kiss, so any further exertion had been curtailed. His unicorns were intact for a bit longer. 

"I told Stephen you could be relied upon." Delenn commented, then as she placed a reassuring hand on his arm, "But he is worried about you; as are we all." 

Marcus sighed. "I know I shouldn't have got up yesterday, but can you blame me? No one would answer any of my questions. I nearly went mad imagining everyone had died and that we had lost!" 

"I am sorry for not telling you, but we did not know when would be the right time. We believed the shock would be too great for you." 

"Yes! How do you tell a man that twenty five years have passed and that half his friends have gone!" an anger that Marcus didn't know was there, suddenly began to grow. He was helpless as it bubbled up, forcing him to lash out. He felt his body begin to shake as his rant built. "You left me completely in the dark! I knew nothing! You could have at least told me that Susan had survived!" 

"We thought.." Delenn began, but Marcus cut her off. 

"And what about William and Sophie? You told them not to speak to me didn't you? You made them promise; actually made them scared to see me. Bloody hell Delenn! How can you forbid children from seeing their Grandfather?" 

He paused, unable to think of anything else to be mad about, but needing to release his rage. Glaring at the woman beside him, he saw the tears shining in her eyes. 

The sorrow he saw, brought him up short. 

He was raving at one of the women he had pledged his life to protect. He had challenged Neroon to Den'sha for her. It was not in her nature to be cruel; and yet he was furious towards her for caring about him. 

He hung his head in disgust, suddenly hating himself. 

"God Delenn," he groaned, "I'm sorry." 

"You have no need to apologise, to me, or anyone." Her voice, calm and soothing, made Marcus feel worse. He felt her place a hand on his arm, but dared not lift his head to look at her. He couldn't face those eyes again. 

Delenn continued, "You do know that all our decisions were made with your best interests in mind." 

"I do know that Delenn. It's just that I feel…" Marcus trailed off. What exactly did he feel? Now that he had had time to sit and think, the enormity of the change that had occurred to those people and places that had once been so familiar to him was becoming frighteningly clear. "Lost." He finished finally. 

"Of course you will feel lost." Delenn sounded relieved. "I can only imagine the confusion of losing so much time." 

"No. It's not just that." As usual when talking to the Minbari beside him, he suddenly understood something about himself that he had not dared to admit. "I don't know where I'm going." 

"None of us know where the path of life leads." 

"But you make plans though." Marcus was looking at Delenn again, wanting her to understand. "We all knew the probability was great that we would die; but you still had dreams for the future. You, Stephen, Susan. Everyone, except me." 

"Did you have no hopes?" Delenn asked. From her tone it was obvious she was dismayed at what she was hearing. 

"Not for myself. I had to make sure Marie was safe, but beyond that, nothing. All my hopes were killed by the Shadows. I never expected to survive the war, so why plan beyond the next battle? I certainly never expected to find love." 

"Is that why you never told Susan?" 

Marcus nodded. "What was the point, if I was to be killed the next week? It would be better for her if she didn't know. I would not want her to suffer grief at my death if she had loved me, she had lost so many people before; and I dared not risk our friendship if she rejected me." 

"But it is our hopes that give our life meaning." Delenn said, despair creeping into her voice once more. "Without direction we become stagnant, unable to become anything greater than that which we are. They are our reason to live." 

"Susan is my reason to live." Marcus grasped the hands of the older woman, the anger that had burnt within him only a short time before, replaced with a vehement passion. She had to know. "The thought of seeing her face was what made me get up every morning; the fire in her eyes made me fight to return to her after every mission; the ice of her voice concluded my day." He paused. When Delenn remained silent, he continued quietly, "There were times, the few times she smiled at me, that I let myself imagine us as a family; Marie, Susan and me." 

The pair on the bench in the morning sun shared a smile, each losing themselves in memories of newly discovered love. Marcus eventually ended the moment with a shake of his head and a sigh. 

"It was only a dream Delenn." He said, "The fantasy of a very lonely man." 

"No Marcus! It was not just a dream." She began to plead with him, "You and Susan have been given a second chance. You have time now, with no wars threatening to cut your lives short, to learn about each other. To discover the other half of your soul. Do not turn your back on that." 

"But what if she doesn't love me?" Marcus' own fears were making him doubt Susan's actions the night before. What if she had acted out of guilt? 

"I do not believe that will happen," Delenn replied, "But if it does, then you will always have Marie, and I will always be your friend. You will always have a home here on Minbar." 

"I haven't called anywhere home in a long time." 

"Then now is the perfect time to begin." Delenn's radiant smile was back, "Do not be afraid to follow your dreams Marcus. Let hope live in your heart once more." 

Sitting in the warm sun, rising ever higher, Marcus was willing to believe anything possible. For the first time in years, he thought about the future, and let himself hope. 

A voice calling his name, made his heart jump. Susan appeared in the garden, hair dishevelled from sleep, and ran to catch him into her arms. 

"Marcus! You're still here!" she almost sobbed into his shoulder, "I woke up and you weren't there. I thought I'd dreamt you." 

I am the one that is dreaming, he thought, as he held Susan tightly, revelling in the feel of her body in his arms; warm, firm and very much alive. 

"I'm very real," he murmured into her hair, "And I don't plan on going anywhere soon." 

A second lot of shouting broke the peace of the garden once more. This time it was children. William ran out of the house first, followed more carefully by Sophie, both still in their nightclothes. 

"Grandma! Grandpa!" William yelled. "We've got breakfast ready for you." He grabbed Marcus by the arm and began to drag him back to the doorway. Sophie silently took Susan's hand and shyly watched the proceedings. 

"What's for breakfast?" Marcus asked with a laugh. 

"Gingerbread men!" 

Marcus stopped in surprise and looked at Susan. She shrugged. It was Delenn that explained. 

"We made them last night, when you were 'unavailable'. They are supposed to be for tea." 

"But are perfect for breakfast." Marcus announced. "Are they iced?" 

William nodded vigorously and began pulling again. 

Marcus let himself be dragged inside to the kitchen where a large plate of gingerbread men had been haphazardly placed on the table. All four sat down and Marcus passed the plate first to William and then to Sophie. The girl just buried her face in Susan's arm and refused to even look at Marcus. 

"There's no need to be shy." Susan tried to coax the girl, but to no avail. "I'm sorry," she said to Marcus, "She just needs time to get used to you." 

"That's alright." He replied, "I know I am a bit strange when I first turn up." 

It was a very unusual breakfast. William chattered round mouthfuls of gingerbread and nobody stopped him. Marcus watched in delight and wonder as Susan cajoled Sophie with a gingerbread man and then held a whispered conversation, her head bent low towards the girl's. He marvelled at how the 'Ice Maiden', terror of many a crew, could be so gentle and caring. 

What other surprises did she hold? Her kisses of the night before were only a taster of the passion as yet unleashed, and Marcus hungered for it. He let his eyes roam her body, knowing well the strength that lay within that slight frame, the steel encased in skin of silk. He imagined the feel of it under his hands. 

Susan looked up and caught his smouldering gaze. She sent back a scowl of her own. Marcus knew the dangers of playing with Susan's heart, but he was in a reckless mood. A little bit of teasing to build up the fire would make things very interesting. It would be fun seeing just how far he could push. 

"What are you grinning at?" the object of his desire demanded. 

He grinned wider. Let the games begin, he thought. 

"Nothing, Grandma." He quietly laughed as her scowl deepened at the use of the matriarchal title. Goody, the Commander was back. 

"Well, You can do the bedtime story tonight Grandpa." Susan said, with emphasis on the Grandpa. "I hope you know some good ones." 

Marcus thought for a moment before replying, "Do you know 'Hans my Hedgehog'?" 

The End 

OoOoOoO

And so it ends. Many thanks to my reviewers; Crazy Ranger, pol, Fondued Jicama, mochii, Natters, Robin and everyone else. I had originally invisaged this story continuing, but it would only cover ground that so many stories have covered before. It has got to the point where the main thrust of the plot has been concluded so I would rather let your own imaginations take it further. 

If anyone out there wants to use the character of Marie, feel free. Just let me know so I can make sure you're not doing anything uncharacteristic with her. I have a couple of Marie stories myself running around in my head. 

Please enjoy one of the gingerbread men made by William and Sophie. I hope to meet up again sometime.

* * *

"True Magic is done with the mind and the spirit. Chants and potions are just a way to focus the magic, but they will not work without the magic of your spirit. Every wizard that you may encounter has a vast imagination, and a mind that can fly free. You still have that great gift. When you go home, you can use your imagination to see this world and us. Your mind is free from all bounds. You can travel anywhere, meet anyone and do anything, all within your mind. That is the first gateway to magic." - Nala, Wizard of_ T'Tenneb_.

* * *

Any comments to 

Ranger Hilary.


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